


Switched

by Luki



Series: KHR Tumblr Snippets & Unfinished Fanfics [3]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Gen, Xanxus's Mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 21:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11426766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luki/pseuds/Luki
Summary: Thanks to a magic rock, Xanxus and Tsuna find themselves transported to the past…and in each other’s bodies.  Neither is really happy about it. (lots of foul language because, well, Xanxus)UNFINISHED and likely to stay that way.





	Switched

**Author's Note:**

> If you can’t tell from one of my current works in progress, I’m a sucker for body swap fics. Sadly, this one died a miserable death before it ever really lived. WILL NOT BE UPDATED.

The weirdest day of Xanxus’s life was due to a rock.

It was a pretty looking rock he guessed.  Clearly not worth anything but probably shiny enough that the homo-trash would squeal and insist they put it in his room.  It was sitting on the Sawada trash’s desk, paper wrapping in the bin suggesting it was a gift for the soon-to-be-Decimo.

If Xanxus had been calm, he probably would have snarked out something insulting about a gifts value representing what the giver thought of the person.  However…

“What the fuck do you think you’re planning!”

Xanxus had never really been able to be calm in the presence of the man sitting on the opposite side of the desk.

Sawada Tsunayoshi, eighteen years old and thoroughly _done_ just gritted his teeth.

“Exactly what I’ve been planning for the last four years Xanxus!  I’ve never wanted to be the Vongola boss, so today, at the inheritance ceremony, I am telling everyone flat out and walking out the door.”

“Are you fucking crazy!” Xanxus hissed, forever grateful that Lussuria had managed to coax Sawada’s plan out from his Sun Guardian before the brat had the chance to follow through.  “Just about every criminal syndicate in the world will be there!  Do you know what that’ll do to the Vongola’s reputation?  We’ll be a laughingstock!”

“Well Nono should have thought about that before sending Reborn to Japan!” Tsuna yelled back.  “I never wanted any of this, and I’m getting out while I still have a chance!”

“There is no _getting out_ Trash _!_ ” Xanxus screeched.  “How the fuck are you so dense.  Why the hell can’t you appreciate what’s being handed to you on a silver platter?”

“Because I. Don’t. Want it!” Tsuna cries.  “Why does nobody ever get that?”

Xanxus is seething. He hasn’t been this furious since this very brat froze his hands in the ring battle.

“You brat…I would give everything I am to have what you have!”

The Sawadra-trash gritted and teeth, and glared up at the Varia boss.

“Believe me Xanxus, you can have it!”

It wasn’t the first time they’d had this fight, and even with the severity of the argument, both knew the play by play like clockwork.  Xanxus would shoot, Tsuna would punch, and after an hour of ripping each other apart someone would break them up and send them in different directions before one of them killed the other.

However, this time there was an additional player.  The rock, apparently not just a paperweight, started to glow.  Both paused and glanced down, just in time to see it flare a blinding white…

* * *

Xanxus immediately jumped back, away from the possible explosive and went for his guns, hoping to gain enough distance to get out of the blast range.

Only his guns weren’t at his side, and his hands brushed against soft fabric.  Before he could process that fact, his feet failed to find their footing, and he crashed to the ground.

“Goddammit!  You’d better be bleeding Sawada!”

Sawada doesn’t answer, and his voice doesn’t quite sound right.  He opens his eyes, bracing for white spots and smoke, only for him to gasp in confusion.

He’s not in the vault anymore.  Instead it’s some kind of civilian room, with pale green walls and children’s toys scattered around the floor.  Before he can even process this, his arms buckled, and he flops to the ground with a pathetic lack of grace.

He curses to himself, rolling over and pulling himself to his feet.  Frustratingly, his body seems to take forever to actually process the commands, and he curses to himself, promising the Sawada-trash painful retribution for this.

Such thoughts however, immediately leave his mind when he catches sight of his hands.

They’re…chubby, and his arms show no muscle, only pudgy flesh.  Instead of the Varia uniform, he was wearing soft blue sleepwear.

Xanxus can’t help but pale. Had that thrice damned rock turned him into an Arcobaleno?

No…that wouldn’t explain the clothes…but then what?

He looks up, and sees a mirror attached to a toy car in the corner.  Stumbling towards it, he curses when he trips over apparently thin air and crashes to the ground.

Something is definitely wrong with him, he’s never been this clumsy.  

The pathetic looking hands grab the car and he angles the mirror to see himself.  The entire house shakes with his reaction.

“WHAT THE FUCK!!!”

Big brown eyes, impossibly fuzzy hair, and a face that filled Xanxus with a deep burning loathing.

He was staring at Sawada Tsunayoshi…at four years old.

Any attempt to process this fact what hindered when the door to the room opened, and another woman wearing Sawada-trash’s face showed up, frowning at him.

“Now, now Tsuna-kun!” she chided.  “I know you’re sad that papa’s gone, but that’s not the kind of language good little boys should be using.”

* * *

This was – bar none – the most humiliating day of Xanxus’s life.

Between this ridiculous outfit, the mandatory ‘playtime’, his ‘mothers’ punishment, and the unbearably Klutziness of this body, Xanxus was about ready to run a bath and drown himself.

Still, at least he was starting to accept what had happened, even if he had no clue exactly how.  The rock, whatever the fuck it was, had somehow transported him back in time, and into the body of his least favourite person on the planet.  

However, that meant he now had Vongola blood.   _Real_ Vongola blood, and an actual shot at the Decimo position.  

And as an added bonus, if he was right, the stupid trash was now in _his_ body, which would still be in Italy’s slums.  He wouldn’t have the slightest clue what to do – the trash still struggled to activate his flames without pills, good luck getting his mother to call the old man without them.  And even if he did, the high and mighty brat said he didn’t want to be part of the mafia…maybe in ten years Xanxus would take a walk and see how the former Sawada-trash did after turning his back on the family.  He’d either be dead or a junkie, and Xanxus wasn’t sure which one he’d liked to see more.

But first…he had to get to Italy.

He slammed the pink ball (pink, seriously what was wrong with these people) against the house in frustration and kept an eye on the woman inside.  Once the Sawada woman had gone into the kitchen, Xanxus could slip inside and get to the phone.  There was no way Xanxus was spending a decade living as a civilian when he could spend that time getting groomed for heirship.  If he called one of the secure lines at Vongola headquarters, he’d be able to convince someone to head to Japan and pick him up.

Finally, the woman leaves his sight, and Xanxus slips in, only tripping once, and bites down on his lip to muffle the curse.

He picks up the phone and prepares to dial…only to pause in confusion.

He doesn’t know the number.

…Which makes NO fucking sense!  The mafia don’t exactly write down the numbers of secure lines – every Mafioso has the necessary telephone numbers and codes beaten into their skulls.  Xanxus has been able to recite the entire Vongola phonebook since before he hit puberty.  

He tries to recall another number, and a dead weight pools in his stomach as it draws a blank again.

Well…fine.  It’ll be a little more annoying but he’ll just have to call the Vongola through public channels.  If he yells enough private information down the line it should at least get the CEDEF’s trash boss over to Japan, and he can figure it out from there. He’s spotted an Italian phonebook on the shelf in the hallway – something the Young Lion no doubt left behind - so he pulls it off and starts reading.

…Only he can’t. Because it’s in Italian.  

That dead weight increases to the point that Xanxus drops to the ground, gasping in air and clutching at the air, phonebook slipping from his fingers.  In the back of his mind, he’s aware that he’s having a panic attack, but it doesn’t seem that important.

The words might as well be an alien language for all that Xanxus understands.  It’s his _mother_ tongue, and he can’t read it.

This spell…wish…curse…whatever the fuck it was, it’s done more than dump Xanxus in the wrong body.

His mind involuntarily brings up the argument.

“ _I would give everything I am to have what you have_!”

Everything.

That was the cost. Xanxus was still Xanxus – he remembered being Nono’s son, being the Varia Commander.

But everything else…he’d lost his storm flames, his status, his languages, knowledge, guardians, training…

He was gonna have to start from fucking scratch!  In this weak ass body, with sealed flames, surrounded by civilians!

Bet that stupid trash is laughing his head off at me…’ He growled in his head.

* * *

He’d always assumed that the old man had wanted him to suffer, shoving him in that ice prison for 8 years.  But he’s starting to consider that the old man had actually meant it when he said he loved Xanxus.

If he’d really wanted the Varia boss to suffer, he’d just have sealed off his flames.

Holy hell, how on earth did the Sawada-trash survive to fourteen?  This was torture of the highest degree – his body was uncoordinated, his mind full of fog and it took a ridiculously amount of effort to do anything. It wasn’t just part of being a civilian, he could _feel_ the flames behind the seal, just out with his reach.  

He’d cough up blood before he admitted it, but he’d clearly not been giving the trash enough credit. Xanxus wouldn’t wish this fate on his own enemies – with a kid who didn’t have the slightest clue what was wrong, no wonder the trash had been such a pathetic waste of space outside of a fight.

Well, Xanxus did know, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to live the next decade waiting for someone to decide he needed his flames.  He was getting them unsealed yesterday!

…Although he absolutely no idea how to do that.

…

Fuck.


End file.
